


Please Let Me Stay With You

by silverthecat



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Adopted Toby Smith | Tubbo, Canonical Character Death, Dream Team SMP Spoilers, Gen, Lots of Angst, No Happy Endings for now, Phil Watson-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Phil and Techno are old friends, Phil tries to be a good dad but fails, Post-Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Spoilers for Jan 6th, Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, only angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 21:14:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28624671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverthecat/pseuds/silverthecat
Summary: Philza can remember 3 times he was able to hold onto his oldest son. 3 times where he promised to do better, for all three of his kids.And then there was the one time Wilbur wanted nothing to do with him, even if just for a moment.
Relationships: Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson
Kudos: 79





	1. The 1st Time

The battle was over.

L’Manberg had been reduced to nothing more than a smoking crater in the ground.

The citizens, though they had all been beaten to a pulp, were already making plans to rebuild their homes once more.   
  
Techno and Dream had fled the scene hours ago.  
  
And just a few hours ago, Philza had killed his own son.  
  
Everyone had gathered just outside of L’Manberg once more, tending to the most injured and taking stock of their current supplies. There were even talks of a speech by the new president about restoration plans. Or at least, so he’s heard.  
  
Philza had left the crowd not to long ago. Compared to everyone else, he was relatively unscathed physically. A few scratches here or there, a cut on his cheek, and a bruise on his arm. But compared to some of the others, he was fine. Instead, there was something else he had to attend to.  
  
He crossed the rubble, trying not to choke on the smell of gunpowder. The path up to the button room was steep. Bits of the podium even covered part of the way, rubble he had to struggle to push aside. When he had fled, he hadn’t been paying attention to his route whatsoever. All that had mattered back then was getting there before he lost another son. Before he had lost his oldest friend.  
  
He heaved himself over one last fallen pillar, only to face the cursed room. It was just as he left it, albeit covered in a thick layer of dust and ashes. Philza paused for a moment, feeling his own breath hitch slightly in his chest at the sight of the carvings on the wall, and of the chair tossed aside from the explosion. Part of the room’s roof had caved in, leaving a pile of rubble that sat in the corner.  
  
And that was where his son lay.  
  
Just the sight of Wilbur’s body, still and unmoving, made tears prick at the edge of his eyes. He’d seen plenty of dead bodies before, whether they be of faceless bystanders or of his own comrades and allies. Philza had long since become desensitized to the sight of death, something that was bound to happen considering his best friend was practically a "Blood God". But he had never once thought that he’d have to see his own son laying before him.  
  
He took a deep breath, trying to push down the tears for now, and moved to Wilbur’s side. The bleeding had long-since stopped. The blood had dried too, as Philza quickly found out when he tried to wipe away a small trail of blood off of Wilbur’s face. He knelt there for a moment, just staring at his son’s body as that same crushing feeling of guilt crept over him.  
  
_Kill me, Phil. Kill me, right now._  
  
“...It’s all gone, Will.” Philza muttered, under his breath, despite knowing Wilbur couldn’t hear him anymore. “You won, and it’s all gone. Are you...are you proud of yourself? Of what you did?”  
  
_Phil, stab me with the sword. Murder me, Phil!_  
  
A few tears slipped out as Philza took another deep breath. Back in the crowd, he had heard a few people ask where Wilbur had gone. Some had even theorized he had ran off with Techno and Dream, destroying his own nation as a final middle finger to them all. In the midst of the chaos, it was natural that most of them had missed it. Philza couldn’t really blame them.  
  
Which only made what he had to do feel all the more painful. He rubbed at his eyes, wiping away the stray tears. He then carefully moved his hands under Wilbur’s body, picking him up as if he were alive and simply unconscious. It was worrying how light the young man was, exile had clearly been unkind to him.  
  
_Look, they all want you to! Do it, Phil, kill me!  
_  
He turned to look back out to the rest of L’Manberg, heart heavy. In a few moments, he’d be back with the rest of them, head lowered as he held his dead son in his arms. Their former leader who had a hand in all this destruction. He could almost already see the reactions. He could hear his two remaining sons, yelling in disbelief as they ran over. As awful and unhinged as Wilbur had been in his final days, he was still their older brother. Someone who had looked out for them before this mess had started, someone who had only wanted to protect them.  
  
Someone who had been stabbed by their own father, who couldn’t have stopped Wilbur’s madness even when it mattered the most.  
  
_Was it my own fault?_ Philza wondered as he began the trek back to everyone slowly. _Was it because I wasn’t there when he needed me? Am I the reason he…_  
  
_YOU’RE MY SON! NO MATTER WHAT YOU-!_  
_  
**SLAM!**_  
_  
Do it. Put an end to me. To all of this._  
  
Philza squeezed his eyes shut, tears leaking out once more. The answer was as clear as day. And he hated to admit it.  
  
He had been a terrible father to all three of his sons. He hadn’t been there when they had needed him most. And this was the price for it. One son dead, one son left with a heavy burden placed on his shoulders, and one son fighting a doomed battle. He held Wilbur’s body even closer to himself as he whispered a promise.  
  
For the sake of the children he had left, he was going to do better. He had to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me? Writing angst to cope with the current server events? More likely than you think.
> 
> Anyways, this was mainly inspired by that one part after everything had occurred, where Ghostbur confronted Phil about everything. Not only that, but I was such a sucker for those smaller moments Ghostbur and Phil shared before. I hope you all enjoy!


	2. The 2nd Time

New L’Manberg was coming along wonderfully. Instead of simply trying to fill up the crater left behind by the TNT and Withers, the restoration committee had simply built platforms over it. Houses were built into the side of the cliff and they had even begun filling the hole with water from the nearby lake. Someone had even recreated the original van that the country had been started in.  
  
Philza had been away for a bit, needing to take a few days away from everyone after the battle. But to say he wasn’t proud of how far they had come in such a short time would be dishonest. Tubbo was shaping up to be a good president. Or at least, he hoped.  
  
He had practically insisted on building his own house, saying it was the least he could do after missing out on the bigger parts of the reconstruction. Days were spent gathering materials and settling into the city, while nights were spent on the house’s actual construction. It was a rather comfortable routine he soon found himself settling into.  
  
About a week into building his new house, however, was when everything had changed.  
  
That night, Philza was working on finishing the first floor. The windows were ready to be fitted and he had enough materials to create more chests. Just as he was about to start, however, he heard something. Reflexes as sharp as ever, he spun around in place, his hand already flying to his sword.  
  
And yet, when he turned around, there was nothing to be seen. Not even a mob or another person. Relaxing slightly, he turned to continue his work only to hear it again. The subtle creak of someone walking across the platform outside.  
  
Not many people were up at this hour. And those who were usually used this time to go out hunting. At once, Philza’s guard was shifted back up. He moved to his home’s doorway, hand hovering over the hilt of his sword.  
  
“Whoever’s out there...show yourself.” He called out, eyes scanning the area cautiously. The footsteps stopped at once. “I’m not in the mood for a fight, but I swear, I won’t hesitate-!”  
  
The footsteps had started up again, only this time they were heading closer to him. Yet, he couldn’t even see anyone. _Someone using an invisibility potion?_ The thought crossed his mind, especially as his hand inched ever closer to his sword.  
  
“Hey! Answer me already!” He called out again. The footsteps finally reached him, still not a single person in sight. And then...they sounded behind him.  
  
Philza spun around, feeling a slight chill run down his spine. He didn’t even feel whoever this was push past him. It was more like they had walked through him. The stranger stopped inside his half-completed house, where he watched with his own two eyes as a sign appeared out of nowhere. There was a message scrawled on it, written in an all too familiar handwriting.  
  
**Boo! Did I get you?**  
  
“...no way…” He whispered, a hand rising to his mouth in shock. A soft, childish giggle rang throughout the room, just short of being constrained.   
  
A figure materialized above the sign, gray-skinned and nearly transparent. Well, that was except for the blood staining his sweater and his hollow, black eyes. An odd lump formed in Philza’s throat as he looked up at the spirit of his son, who simply grinned widely.  
  
“ _Hello, Phil! I haven’t seen you around lately!_ ” Wilbur chirped, floating above the sign and crossing his legs. “T _ubbo and Big Q told me you were gonna build a house here in L’Manberg. Is that true?_ ”  
  
Philza was stunned into silence. For a moment, he was even briefly wondered if he was just seeing things. He slowly reached his other hand out, grasping onto Wilbur’s arm. Transparent as it might’ve been, his fingers latched onto the scratchy fabric easily. Another chill traveled up his arm as he felt Wilbur’s arm underneath, just as deathly cold as when he carried his body out of the button room.  
  
Wilbur blinked, tilting his head to the side as he watched Philza’s eyes only widen further.  
  
“...so you...you came back. As a ghost.” The older man finally said, a slight laugh escaping him as he spoke. “You’re….I…”  
  
“ _Well, of course I would!_ ” Wilbur said. His voice sounded higher-pitched than before, constantly cracking and breaking with a barely contained sadness, no matter how cheery he sounded. “ _L’Manberg’s all destroyed and blown up and everything. A lot of people aren’t happy either. Tubbo told me it was something I did when I was alive, but I don’t really remember much of that._ ” He hummed idly, seemingly oblivious to those damned tears that had already begun clouding Philza’s vision.  
  
When people die, sometimes they could come back as a ghost, so long as they had unfinished business. Given all the loose threads Wilbur had left behind before he had died, it was only natural that he’d come back. Philza should’ve expected something like this to happen. And if anything, he should’ve been relieved. His son might’ve been dead, but he was still there with everyone. He wasn’t going to simply disappear for good.  
  
But instead, all Philza could think of was the gaping wound in Wilbur’s stomach. Of how the sword hanging at his side was the same sword he had plunged into Wilbur. A sickening feeling of guilt settled in his stomach. He had initially left to work through these feelings, only returning once he was sure he had grieved enough and found it in himself to even start forgiving himself for what he did.  
  
So why - _why_ \- was Wilbur here now? Simply floating there with a smile, as if there wasn’t a problem in the world?!  
  
“ _Oh! Phil, I just remembered!_ ” Philza was startled out of those worrying thoughts, blinking only to realize Wilbur was right in his face. “ _I wanna show you something. I’ve been waiting until you came back! C’mon, follow me!_ ”  
  
The spirit floated through him once more, sending yet another chill throughout his body. Philza took another moment to compose himself, trying to keep his expression neutral as he followed his son out of the house. Wilbur led him right to the still-under-construction marketplace, pausing right besides an empty stall.  
  
“...Will, what exactly did you want to show me?” He asked, raising an eyebrow as Wilbur immediately floated behind the stall’s counter. The ghost tried to stifle more giggles, raising a finger to his mouth as he dug around for...something.  
  
Philza blinked, still confused, but he remained patient. A few seconds later, Wilbur popped back up with two wooden mallets in hand. Grinning, he began hitting them against the counter’s surface, which made a small chime in return to Philza’s surprise. It was only then that he noticed those were noteblocks, not wooden planks.  
  
Wilbur tapped out a tune, “Mary Had a Little Lamb” it sounded like, while humming along. For just a moment, Philza felt himself relax a little, transported back to a simpler time. Back when Wilbur was just a young boy and it was the two of them, when he had discovered his love of music. Philza himself had even taught him the simple song, offering praise that made him glow with pride.  
  
Philza clapped as Wilbur finished, offering a tired smile. But, as he lowered his hands, he brushed against the hilt of his sword, sharply reminding himself of what was right in front of him. The Wilbur in front of him wasn’t the young boy tapping out a wonky tune. No, the Wilbur in front of him was dead, a spirit that was still tethered to this world due to his past actions.  
  
“ _Phil? Is something wrong?_ ” Wilbur was looking at him, concerned. Philza paused for a moment, jerking his hand away from his sword. “ _Oh...is it the song? I think the blocks are a little out of tune. I tried my hardest and -_ ”  
  
“No, no, Will, it’s fine.” Philza said, pulling his hat down a bit lower and offering another smile. “You sounded great. In fact…” He quickly searched through his materials, pulling out a sign. He affixed it to the front of the stall, carving a message into the wood.  
  
When he pulled away, Wilbur immediately floated over with a curious look on his face. And immediately, the look of confusion turned into one of pure joy.  
  
“ _...Do you really mean it?!_ ” He squealed, turning to his father.  
  
“Of course. I’ve never heard anyone better!” Philza nodded. “Come on, do you want to help me with the house?”  
  
“ _I’d love to, Phil! I’d love to!_ ” Wilbur said, already floating ahead of him. “ _Oooooh, I’m on cloud nine, Philza Minecraft! Cloud nine!_ ” Philza couldn’t help but laugh a small bit, following behind.  
  
The two headed back, leaving behind a simple music stand and a sign that said: Wilbur Soot, Greatest Musician in Town.  
  
_This time_ , Philza promised himself, _I’ll do better._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A longer chapter this time. I always adored headcanoning this as their first meeting, not to mention the fact that I absolutely thought their interaction was soooooo cute. At least there's a bit of fluff before more of the angst comes in.
> 
> Also DAMN, I was surprised with how many people liked this. I'm glad y'all are enjoying this, and I'm glad I'm not the only one using angst to cope with everything going on rn. Anyways, hope y'all enjoyed this chapter too!


	3. The 3rd Time

Thunder boomed over head. And the rain only continued to fall.  
  
“ _...my L’Manberg...My L’Manberg…._ ”  
  
The blood covering the stage below was being washed away with every second, leaving behind little evidence of the execution that had just happened an hour ago. Everybody had disappeared, likely into their homes unless they were dealing with business outside of the country.  
  
“ _My L’Manberg….My L’Maaaaan….berg!_ ”  
  
Three pairs of eyes watched the plaza below, a silence blanketing them. All except for the singing of a certain amnesiac ghost.  
  
Philza let out a soft sigh, pulling his cloak tighter around himself. He moved his gaze for just a second to look back into the room behind him. Wilbur, or rather Ghostbur as he enjoyed calling himself, was just barely visible downstairs, humming along as he ran a brush through his new sheep’s coat. Ranboo was with him as well, the young half-enderman taking shelter from the rain in the front doorway.  
  
Ankle monitor weighing heavy on him, Philza looked back out from his balcony, that painfully familiar worm of guilt burying itself deeper in his stomach. He could’ve done something to stop this. He should’ve done something. His oldest friend stood there, executed and crushed with an anvil, and all he had did was sit there and watch.   
  
Why was it that when people really needed him, all he could do was watch?! Why, why, why, why, _why, why, why--_  
  
“Uh...Phil?”  
  
Ranboo was leaning out of the doorway ever so slightly, looking up at the older man with concern. It was only then he realized he was holding onto his arms tightly, only a few steps away from actively curling in on himself.  
  
“...I’m fine…” Philza quickly lied, standing up straighter and smoothing out his clothes. Ranboo didn’t look convinced in the slightest.  
  
“Mmm...Well, you’ve been kind of standing there for a while...in the rain.” He pointed out. “Maybe...maybe you should go back inside. For now. Before you catch a cold, or something.” If this were any normal situation, Philza would’ve pointed out he was dressed entirely in heavy winter’s clothing, complete with furs and even gloves, but he held his tongue. Ranboo was only trying to help, after all.  
  
Casting one final glance towards the plaza, he walked back inside and closed the doors behind him.  
  
“ _Phil, you seem really sad._ ” Ghostbur’s head poked out of the floor, making Philza jump slightly in place. “ _Do you need some blue? I’ve got plenty!_ ”  
  
“Will, I…” Philza rubbed the back of his neck, trying to pick his words carefully. Not to avoid upsetting the spirit, but to make sure it stuck.  
  
Ghostbur didn’t wait, instead floating through the floor just to shove the dull crystals into his father’s hand. Once he was done, he shot back down, giggling all the while. Once again stunned, Philza couldn’t help but laugh, not even noticing how the crystals seemed to grow a bit darker. At least the intense pressure on his shoulders felt like it was lifting.  
  
But that still didn’t undo what had just happened. Techno was still out there by himself, having survived his execution, sure, but Lord knows if he was injured or not. And it wasn’t as simple as just travelling all that way by himself, Philza was under house arrest after all, with a member of the country’s cabinet literally standing just outside his door.  
  
He was stuck. And no amount of blue could fix that.  
  
But…  
  
An idea quickly struck him. He couldn’t leave his house. But _Ghostbur_ could.  
  
He set the blue down on one of the room’s shelves, before quickly climbing back downstairs. Ghostbur had floated back down in order to hold onto friend again, pulling his face out of the sheep’s coat as he heard Philza come down.  
  
“ _Oh! Did you want more blue, Phil?_ ” He asked, innocently. “ _Friend’s been taking some of them, but I’ve still got plenty left if you want more!_ ”  
  
“No, no, I’m fine for now, Will.” Philza immediately rushed to one of his chests, digging through the materials and tossing them aside carelessly. He’d have plenty of time to clean up later anyways. “You haven’t got a feather or quill on you at the moment, do you?” Ghostbur simply blinked, looking up at his father’s back curiously.  
  
“I’ve got one, if you need it.” The two immediately turned their heads, only to see the front door opened a crack and Ranboo’s green eye just barely visible. “Are you...writing a letter?”  
  
“More like a note, mate.” Philza replied, finally digging out a book. “Pass the quil here.”  
  
His note was hastily scrawled out and just a simple message, written on a sheet he had torn out from, what he would later notice was, his personal journal. All it said was, “I’m safe and I’ll find a way out, don’t worry about me”. Just something to ensure New L’Manberg wouldn’t have the Blood God coming to utterly decimate the entire place anytime soon.  
  
Ghostbur and Ranboo had both stood there, watching with a questioning gaze. Well...Ranboo had, at least. Ghostbur was soon distracted once more by friend. But once Philza had finished, he caught the ghost’s attention once more.  
  
“Listen, ah...Ghostbur.” He said, folding the paper up as quickly as he could. “You know where Techno lives, right?”  
  
“ _Mhm! That’s where I found friend!_ ”  
  
“Good, good. And you can find it again, right?”  
  
“ _Well, yeah, I should be. Why?_ ”  
  
Philza held out the note to him, giving him a small smile in return.  
  
“I need you to go to Techno’s house and give him this.” He explained. “...Once the rain stops, of course. But I need you to get it to him as quickly as possible, okay?” Ghostbur hesitantly took the note, staring at it through his own, transparent hands.  
  
“ _...Why can’t you do it yourself? You know the way to Techno’s house too, right?_ ” His son asked, looking back up with those wide, hollow eyes. “ _Plus, you could probably go right now, too! Since you don’t have to worry about the rain at all, y’know._ ” Philza let out a sad chuckle, rubbing at his arm.  
  
“I would. But…” He gestured down to the ankle monitors (and somewhat discreetly to Ranboo).  
  
“I’m afraid he’s under house arrest, Ghostbur.” Ranboo added, his tone as delicate as possible. “It wouldn’t be the best idea for him to make a journey like that right now, especially after that whole fiasco.” Ghostbur simply hugged the note closer to his chest, still not quite looking like he understood.  
  
“ _Well...Let’s go ask Tubbo then!_ ” He eventually said, giving a weak smile. “ _I’m sure he’ll be happy to let you go!_ ”  
  
“Again, not the best idea to let the president know you’re about to be breaking the law.” Ranboo replied, nervously laughing. In the meantime, Philza glanced off to the side for a moment, as if collecting his thoughts.  
  
Which was when idea number two struck him.  
  
“Are you...scared of going alone, Ghostbur?” He asked, catching his son off-guard.  
  
“ _Er...not really?_ ” Ghostbur smiled, stroking friend’s head with his free hand. “ _I mean, he lives in a very snowy and cold place, and I melt in the snow too. It’s just much easier to dodge. And I do want to go visit him again, it’s always a pleasure! It’s just…_ ” For a moment, his expression darkened and he paused, as if trying to find the right words. It was only for the briefest of moments, however, before he brightened almost instantly.  
  
“ _I’m...worried about friend. What if he gets hurt? Or what if something happens to you? Your windows are all smashed up and you still seem really, really sad._ ” He continued. “ _In fact, here. Have some more blue, calm yourself._ ”  
  
“Will, really, I’m fine.” Philza shook his head, allowing himself a small, but genuine smile. “You’ll be putting a lot of my worries to rest by doing this, promise me.” Ghostbur still looked unsure for a moment, continuing to stroke friend’s head as he thought before Philza added; “...And, I can look after friend while you’re gone. I promise, he won’t have a scratch on him.”  
  
The two locked gazes for a moment, blue meeting black. Then, before he knew it, Ghostbur grinned widely and flew forwards, wrapping his arms around his father tightly. A mighty shiver shook Philza’s whole body, chilling him even worse than the Antarctic’s winds.  
  
“ _Thank you, Phil, thank you!_ ” He cried out, sounding cheerful once more. It took a few moments before Philza properly reacted, reaching his arms around the ghost and hugging him back as well.  
  
Maybe if he even closed his eyes, it’d feel like the entire day hadn’t just happened. That it was all fake and…  
  
No, he’s lived too long to be feeling such regret and guilt now. He’s regretted far worse things than simply not giving up his oldest friend’s location.  
  
They stood there for a few minutes, locked in an embrace, before Ghostbur finally pulled away, picking up the end of friend’s lead to place into Philza’s hand. The door creaked open just slightly, reminding them that Ranboo was still in the room with them. The rain had finally stopped, and just in time too.  
  
“ _Oh, I’d better start going then._ ” Ghostbur said, sounding as if he were talking to no one in particular. “ _I’ll be back soon, friend. Alright? Here, take some blue in the meanwhile._ ” He pulled a few more crystals out of his pocket, shoving them into friend’s collar.  
  
“Stay safe out there, alright?” Philza reminded him. Ghostbur merely laughed and held out his arms.  
  
“ _Don’t worry, I’ll be fine!_ ” He said, tilting his head. “ _Ghosts can’t die again, after all!_ ”  
  
“Fine. Don’t cause any trouble for Techno then.” Philza shot back, earning a laugh from them both.  
  
Then, with a final wave, Ghostbur simply left. Leaving both Philza and Ranboo alone. There was a brief, somewhat tense silence before…  
  
“...I can...uh...go now, since the rain’s gone.” Ranboo awkwardly said, pointing a thumb over his shoulder. “I didn’t really mean to take up any of your time. Or anything. I can--”  
  
“...Ranboo. Can you go with him?”  
  
The half-enderman paused, clearly taken aback by the request. With Ghostbur gone and the effects of his ‘blue’ starting to wear off, Philza could once again feel the icy claws of guilt tearing into him once more. Had he really sent his already dead son into an environment that could literally melt him? What, just so he could clear his conscience oof something he had no control over?!  
  
“I - You want - Er -” Ranboo stuttered, clearly taken back by not just the request, but the sudden mood change. “Are you absolutely sure? I’m really not sure Techno would be too welcoming to me specifically. Especially after today.”  
  
“Techno doesn’t just attack people on sight, relax. Even he’s not that bloodthirsty.” Philza tried to keep his tone light-hearted. “Besides, you’ll be with Will, so he’ll be sure to give you time to explain.” Ranboo’s mouth tightened into a thin line for a moment, before he nodded.  
  
“I still owe you one for saving me.” He said. “I’ll make sure he delivers that note safely. Otherwise you’re more than free to...yeah, I’ll just keep an eye on him, don’t worry.”  
  
Philza couldn’t help but let out a relieved sigh, waving as Ranboo left as well. Now he was all alone, with a bright blue sheep and a horribly messy house.  
  
He gripped onto the lead tighter, looking down at friend. The sheep merely stared blankly ahead, right where its ghostly friend had been standing a few moments ago. Another sigh escaped him.  
  
“...Hey, don’t look so down, mate.” He bent down, patting a hand on its back. “Ghostbur’s gonna be back before you know it. Alright?”  
  
The sheep merely bleated in response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll admit, I'm not as big a fan of this chapter. And I absolutely deviated a bit from what actually happened, but that's mainly because I lowkey forgot the exact reason they didn't have friend when they made it to Techno's and only remembered after I had written everything.
> 
> But on the plus side, I'm glad I managed to find a way to fit Ranboo in somewhere, his dynamic with Phil and Techno rn is one of my favorite aspects of the current story and it's also the fact that he might just be my favorite, ngl. Anyways, hope you guys all enjoyed this chapter!


	4. The 4th Time

Philza took in a slow, deep breath. The air hung heavy with the ashes of the former city around them and leftover bits of Soul Sand from summoning the Withers. Before them stretched the smouldering crater that was once New L’Manberg, destroyed until it reached absolute rock bottom.  
  
His sword was held loosely in his grip, that painfully familiar exhausted smile spreading across his face. Never meant to be, isn’t that right, son? He bitterly thought, recalling Wilbur’s final moments.  
  
He’d lost track of Dream during the chaos. The last time he had seen the admin was just before their attack, but he assumed he was still in the area. As for Techno...well, Philza could still catch sight of his old friend near the bottom of the pit, laughing uproariously as a few brave souls tried to challenge him.  
  
All in all...a successful outing to L’Manberg.  
  
Philza continued to gaze out across the crater, satisfaction welling up inside him. Their message was as clear as day, not just to the former citizens of L’Manberg, but to the entirety of the SMP. Anybody who attempted to start a government would simply suffer the same fate.

_(The government took my son. It made me watch as I stabbed a sword right through him. It was their fault.)_  
Something crunched through the charred underbrush behind him, prompting Philza to spin, slashing out in a wide arc.  
  
“Don’t even try it, mate.” He drawled, pulling his hat slightly lower over his eyes. The footsteps didn’t stop, although they did slow considerably. Which meant only 1 of 2 things. 1: Whoever this was was incredibly brave and/or foolish. Or 2: There was a certain spirit lingering even after all that destruction.  
  
 _(It twisted my son, made him mad. They did all of this, it was them. Nobody else should have to face that pain ever again)_  
  
“ _P...Phil…?_ ” A voice drifted through the silence, far more broken than when he had last heard it. Still, it was enough to make the man lower his sword. Not sheathe it, mind you, considering there were plenty of people now who would want his head on a spike, but lower it enough so that he didn’t stab anyone who walked within a few feet of him.  
  
“Ghostbur, I’m alone. No need for hiding.” Philza called out, watching as Ghostbur materialized before him. Worryingly, there seemed to be dark gray streaks running down his face, tears mixing together with a dark blue substance that was leaking from the corner of his mouth. He was holding onto something, clutching it close to his chest.  
  
“ _Phil...you…_ ” Ghostbur paused, his lower lip trembling. “ _I was...I was gone for a bit. Picking flowers for - for friend and I…I heard a lot of yelling._ ”  
  
 _(L’Manberg is nothing but a place of corruption. It takes good people and turns them into monsters.)_  
  
“ _And...And when I came over to L’Manberg I found…_ ” The spirt gestured before him, to the crater.  
  
“Ah…” Philza glanced quickly over his shoulder, grimacing a small bit. It wasn’t that they had gone overboard (In fact, he thought they could’ve done with a few more Withers, but there hadn’t been enough time), it was more the fact that Ghostbur had to see the destruction when it was still so fresh. “Yeah, guess you missed all of that….earlier.”  
  
“ _...Did...Did you and Techno do this, Phil?_ ” The tears were already welling up in Ghostbur’s eyes. “ _Did you...Why would you destroy L’Manberg? Why would you...blow it all up?_ ”  
  
“We did it to send a message, Will.”  
  
Ghostbur only whimpered in reply, holding the item closer to his chest. Concerned, Philza took a step forwards, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. Only to feel Ghostbur violently yank it away.  
  
“ _You KNEW friend was in your house!_ ” He yelled, his voice cracking with emotion. “ _You knew - You knew he was still in your house! That he was stuck in there with no way to get out without any help!_ ”  
  
Friend was still in his house?  
  
...friend had...still been in his house…  
  
Philza squared his shoulders, only now recognizing what it was Ghostbur was holding onto. Friend’s collar, likely the only remnant of the blue sheep. He bit at the inside of his cheek, taking another step once more towards his ghostly son.  
  
“Will, hey, hey. Look at me.” He tried again to put a hand on Ghostbur’s shoulder, offering a sympathetic look. “Listen, it’ll be fine. You remember what I told you about friend, right?” For just a moment, Ghostbur allowed him to touch him.  
  
“ _NO! YOU KNEW FRIEND WAS IN YOUR HOUSE!_ ” Ghostbur pulled away, backing away a few paces. Philza flinched a small bit.  
  
“He’s - He’s got infinite lives.” He tried again, holding his arms out. “He’ll be fine - Listen, Will, I think you need -”  
  
“ _YOU KNEW!_ ” Ghostbur threw the collar down, hard. Philza had never even seen him get this angry, not once since the two first reunited a month ago. “ _Just stop! **Stop**! **STOP**!_”  
  
 _(L’Manberg needs to pay for taking away my son.)_  
  
“ _You knew friend was in your house - You knew EVERYTHING everyone owned was in this town! You knew and you still….You still…_ ” Ghostbur covered his face in his sleeves, sobbing into the fabric.  
Philza, in the meanwhile, was completely frozen to the spot. Every inch of him was screaming to go comfort his son, the son he wanted to avenge after all this time. And yet, his body wouldn’t move. Ghostbur hadn’t even wanted to be touched by him, let alone even listen to him.   
  
“ _I don’t...I don’t want to hear what you have to say._ ” After a few moments, Ghostbur managed to choke out. “ _...I’ve read all the history books, Phil. I’ve spent hours reading them all. And you...you were the hero!”_  
 _  
(L’Manberg WILL pay for what it made me do. For what it made him do.)_  
  
“ _You were the knight in shining armour! The - The hero who slayed the dragon, the villain! You killed Alivebur!_ ”  
  
“....”  
  
“ _You were a saint...a good guy….you were supposed to help L’Manberg heal after everything. You were supposed to help Tubbo and Tommy rebuild everything, to be a good mentor. And you…_ ”  
  
 _(I’ll make sure they pay for it. I swear it on this very sword.)_  
  
“ _....You threw it all away._ ”  
  
Philza couldn’t even look at him anymore. Every word stung more than the rest, made worse by Ghostbur’s haunting, empty-socket stare that burned a hole right through him. There was a pause, one that seemingly stretched on for far too long.   
  
“ _...Why did this all happen, Phil?_ ” Ghostbur had stopped yelling, his voice growing quiet once more. “ _Is it...all my fault? I don’t get it, I really don’t._ ” He clenched his fists tightly, so tightly Philza could see him shaking from it. “ _I...I sowed the seeds of peace and yet...I’m the one who always pays for war._ ”  
  
 _(I’ll help you. Without a doubt, old friend. I’ll do whatever you need.)_  
  
“Will -”  
  
“ _And I - I know I’m forgetful, Phil! I know I’m an amnesiac, I know I’m just the comic relief in everyone’s stories! But I still…_ ” Ghostbur raised his hands over his heart, tears streaming down his face in an never ending waterfall. “ _I still feel these things. And I try to make sure nobody else feels them. Isn’t...Isn’t that what you want to do too?_ ”  
  
Philza raised a hand over more, only taking a single step forwards. Ghostbur didn’t move in response, instead watching him with that...that look. It wasn’t anger, it was more...disappointment. For a second, Philza could’ve sworn he saw a flash of pity in his expression. It was like he had caught a small glimpse of the old Wilbur that still lurked underneath.  
  
“....I’m sorry, Will. I really am.” Philza fought to keep his voice steady, lowering his gaze. “You’ll understand one day, I promise.”  
  
His chest tightened as he heard Ghostbur sniffle, followed not long afterwards by slow footsteps.  
  
“ _...You broke your promise…_ ” Came his last words as he disappeared into the darkness. “ _You...You never made things better._ ”  
  
Philza’s grip on his sword tightened for a moment, before it clattered to the ground. He fell onto his knees, fighting back against tears desperately. The gravity of what had just happened came crashing down on him, making him all too painfully aware of the destruction around him. They hadn’t just blown up a government, they had destroyed homes, they had ruined valuable memories and sentiments that could never be recovered again.  
  
 _(My son’s unfinished symphony will **stay** unfinished this time. I’ll make sure of it.)_  
  
Ghostbur had been right. In siding with Techno and choosing anarchy, Philza had gone against his earlier word. He had placed himself on the opposite side of his own sons, he’d killed something his dead son had cared so much about. Worse yet...Ghostbur likely wasn’t going to remember this entire conversation. The next time the two spoke, he’d probably act as if everything was normal.  
  
Philza clutched at his arms, trying to ignore how hard it was not to let out a sob. If anybody here heard it, they’d take it as a sign of weakness. A chance to attack. But he couldn’t move either. He didn’t want to.  
  
“....I’m sorry….” He muttered out, just barely audible. “...Will...Tommy….Tubbo….I…”  
  
 _(I promised I’d be a better father. This...this is just a part of it.)_  
  
“....I failed you….all of you….”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entire interaction is literally one of my favorites. Just hearing Ghostbur go OFF on Phil broke my heart so much.
> 
> Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed, even if this did take a bit longer to come out. I also plan on writing a full retelling of the Dream SMP story so far, if only in a fantasy/RPG type of AU, of which I have been working on for a while now. So stick around a bit longer for that!
> 
> Thank you all for the support on this story, I really wasn't expecting so many people to start following this or liking it as much. Here's to more angst hopefully in the future!


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